of the shroud of Marat.
Marat in his youth had had amorous intrigues.
This was when he was a member of the household of the Comte d''Artois, in the capacity of physician to the Stables. From these love affairs, historically proved, with a great lady, he had retained this sheet.
As a waif or a souvenir.
At his death, as this was the only linen of any fineness which he had in his house, they buried him in it.
Some old women had shrouded him for the tomb in that swaddling-band in which the tragic Friend of the people had enjoyed voluptuousness.
Bruneseau passed on.
They left that rag where it hung; they did not put the finishing touch to it. Did this arise from scorn or from respect?
Marat deserved both. And then, destiny was there sufficiently stamped to make them hesitate to touch it.
Besides, the things of the sepulchre must be left in the spot which they select.
In short, the relic was a strange one.
A Marquise had slept in it; Marat had rotted in it; it had traversed the Pantheon to end with the rats of the sewer. This chamber rag, of which Watteau would formerly have joyfully sketched every fold, had ended in becoming worthy of the fixed gaze of Dante.
The whole visit to the subterranean stream of filth of Paris lasted seven years, from 1805 to 1812.
As he proceeded, Bruneseau drew, directed, and completed considerable works; in 1808 he lowered the arch of the Ponceau, and, everywhere creating new lines, he pushed the sewer, in 1809, under the Rue Saint-Denis as far as the fountain of the Innocents; in 1810, under the Rue Froidmanteau and under the Salpetriere; in 1811 under the Rue Neuve-des-Petits-Peres, under the Rue du Mail, under the Rue de l''Echarpe, under the Place Royale; in 1812, under the Rue de la Paix, and under the Chaussee d''Antin. At the same time, he had the whole net-work disinfected and rendered healthful.